Bewitched
by Akiros
Summary: Matthew was always ignored, and this won't change; not now, not ever. But somehow a person with eyes like roses and hair like snow manages to convince him otherwise. (Really, really bad summary... Again)


_Hi! Yay, another person is reading one of my fanfics! I'm so happy and thankful to you, person I've never met, and probably never will. This one's a high school AU, and slightly darker than my other fanfic. I am very much mad right now, since the formatting on this Word doc is not working out. Grr. Oh, and thank you to ForbiddenTwilit for beta/editing. I don't know what I'd do without you!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Hidekaz Himaruya-sama does. Also, I can't draw for the life of me._

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A boy, with flaxen hair and eyes the color of amethysts quietly walked along a brick pathway, observing the bright colors of the fall trees along the path.

The boy's name was Matthew. If you were to ask any one of the hundreds of students at his school, they wouldn't be able to tell you a single thing about him, nor would they be likely to even recognize him. Even if you were to present the violet-eyed teen to them with a biography, they'd still be clueless. And more than likely, if they were to encounter the teen later, they would have completely forgotten about him.

Matthew walked towards the school doors, weaving in and out of the other students walking to school. Not that there was actually a need to do so. People naturally veered away from him, as if he wasn't there. People got shoved into him, but they never apologized, instead just moving on, laughing. It could hardly be called bullying, though. After all, you couldn't truly bully someone if you didn't even know they existed.

He continued in to the school, silently walking past raucous boys, shouting and laughing and shoving; glamorous girls, putting finishing touches on makeup and gossiping about who their favorite idol was and whatnot.

He walked unnoticed through the long hallways, continuously dodging the people. He quietly sighed in exasperation. What he hated most about walking to class were the people clogging up the hallways. Girls would stop suddenly in the middle of busy hallways, causing him to crash into them (or someone else trying to avoid them— not that anyone ever noticed either way). Boys started running at the worst time, elbowing him or doing other things in the process that would later form bruises on various parts of his body.

Matthew rarely noticed it these days, used to the ignorance of his classmates, and no longer was bothered about it— at least, not on the same scale as he used to be. Besides, not everyone ignored him— Francis and Arthur were kind enough to speak to him every once in a while, and Alfred would make sure he would at least invite him to his parties, whether the Canadian actually went to them was another story.

Continuing on his way to class, Matthew carefully sidestepped all the people about to run into him, nimbly avoided flying fists, raised mirrors, carelessly opened doors, and the odd backpack flung into the air.

Finally reaching his classroom, he breathed a sigh of relief, and entered the classroom. Like any other day, he was the first one there, with the exception of the teacher, who never noticed when he walked into class, or when he took attendance.

He quietly greeted the teacher, who jumped, and scolded for not making himself noticed sooner. Matthew simply just rolled his eyes, having heard the same speech many times before in various ways, and not just from this teacher.

Walking over to his desk, Matthew sat down, waiting for the other students to start arriving. Usually he'd have a book with him, but he managed to finish his the day before, and it would be at least another week before Alfred would deem it 'cool' enough to go to the library again.

Thunder rumbled loudly, pulling Matthew out of his thoughts. He was rather surprised, since their town didn't usually get rain during the fall, to which the science teacher had remarked was the strangest thing.

Matthew glanced out the window, staring at the gray and overcast sky. He could hear people groaning and moaning about cancelled plans, chatting excitedly about what they could do instead of going to the park to 'hang out'.

He didn't understand it. They noticed if there was a smudge on their locker. They noticed if a light bulb went out in the art room. They noticed if the jolly janitor sang the happy birthday song to a lucky student. They noticed if their friend was wearing the same pants two days in a row.

But no one noticed him.

Not now, not ever.

Before, he'd wondered if it'd ever stop. He'd clung to the possibility that someday, somewhere; someone could come up to him because he was himself. He now realized that, not only did it make very little sense, but was about as likely as Francis becoming monogamous.

Matthew had given up hope. Even if someone did see him, it was because they thought he was Alfred, his brother. That got him some popularity, in some roundabout way, as 'the boy who looks like the cool kid', but he wanted to be seen for being himself, not some look-alike.

But like he said before, he had long since given up hope on being recognized for who he was and what he did.

This however, was changed with a single person.

A person, with hair was as white as the lilies Matthew discreetly grew, eyes as red as the thorny roses in full bloom, and a smile as wide as the full moon.

The man grinned, showing off straight, pearly white teeth.

"Hello, my name is Awesome. But you can call me Gilbert. What is your name?"

And Matthew was bewitched.

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_Hello again. Did you like this one? I sincerely hope you did, and thank you for reading my fanfic. I absolutely adore PruCan (and I can't tell you why. Seriously. I have no idea). If you have any constructive criticism, comments, compliments, I accept them all. As always, feedback appreciated! And now I have to go back to doing the homework that I have neglected in favor of writing this._


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